I live by a code that can’t be bent or broken. It is my duty to my family to stay innocent and pure. To marry an Italian man. The stars are already aligned.

But Nikolai Kozlov re-writes my destiny with five simple words.

You belong to me now.

He’s Russian mafiya. A thief. A skilled liar with no moral boundaries. He is everything I have been taught to hate. A man who stands for nothing. A man who takes what he wants without a second thought.

And what he wanted was me.

He thinks he controls my fate, but what he doesn’t know is, sometimes it’s the good girls you have to watch out for.

I’m a dangerous man.

I live by a code. The Vory code. It is my duty to my family to protect the brotherhood. To destroy anyone who threatens what we stand for, including her.

She’s a dancer. A beautiful little doll. My prisoner, and my new favorite puppet. This mafia princess thinks she has me under her spell, but in the end, she is simply collateral.

It’s a shame to destroy precious things.

But this is what bad men do.

PLAYLIST

The first thing I always notice about a person is their posture. I was raised to believe that good posture conveys good manners, as well as respect for those around you. Nikolai carries his posture like a casual ‘f#ck you’ to everyone around him. There is no decorum in his leather jacket, jeans, or his haphazardly laced motorcycle boots. Everything he wears is black, but the small glimpse of skin beneath is a riot of colors. Tattoos cover every inch of his exposed skin, including his throat.

I’m not sure which is more offensive- the ink or the faux hawk atop his head. This is not the way you attend a ballet, nor is he the type of man I expect my father to keep company with.
“Tanaka.” He reaches for my hand and kisses it in a way that few men would ever dare to do in my father’s presence. “You dance beautifully.”

The words are unmistakably accented. Russian. And I’m struggling to maintain my composure while making sense of this situation. My father has always been protective of me. His own men know better than to speak to me or look at me, but for this stranger, somehow, it’s okay.

My manners, at least, are still intact, so I reply as I should. “You’ve seen me dance?”

Nikolai flashes a boyish smile in contrast to the deepness of his blue-green eyes. “I like to invest my time in the arts.”

She likes all things chocolate, books that come with warnings, and putting her characters through hell. Her tales have been known to flirt with darkness and sometimes court it unabashedly altogether. Revenge themes and tortured souls are her favorites to write and this gives her an excuse to watch bizarre and twisted documentaries in her spare time.

She currently lives in the Northwest with her lumberjack and an entire brood of fur babies.

My loves – I am so beyond thrilled to finally get to share Kale and Hope’s story with you in FOLLOW ME BACK! Writing this book was a labor of love, and after everything, I think it might be my favorite book I’ve ever written. It’s super sexy and swoony, sad and sweet, and just filled my heart up so full there is no chance I will ever forget the way these characters made me feel. I hope you fall in love with them the same way I did!

My feels. Oh my poor feels. This book tugged at absolutely every single heartstring I had. I sobbed my way through almost half of it. Follow Me Back was a beautifully written, gripping and highly emotional romance that was full of swoons and impossible to put down.

He looked like discord.
Chaos with an easy, arrogant smile.
A perfect, controlled disorder.

I was instantly hooked on all of these characters the second we were introduced to them in Show Me the Way. But I’m ashamed to admit that Kale wasn’t at the top of my list. He struck me as a character that wouldn’t hold my attention and I’m happily eating my words right now. Because this man? He didn’t just have a presence. He had a PRESENCE. With a past that haunts him daily and prevents him from truly opening his heart, Kale never saw it coming. But when he first lays his eyes on the beautiful redhead in a bar, it’s like he’s struck by lightning. The connection between them is immediate, even though Hope makes him work for it.

The girl was calm and a raging fire.
Peace and a hurricane.
Modest and demure with a straight shot of vixen.

Hope has secrets of her own. She’s a woman with too much to lose, and she doesn’t need more than five seconds in Kale’s presence to know that he threatens everything; her sanity but most especially her heart.

Hope simply made this book for me. As much as I loved Kale, he had moments toward the end of the book that had me wanting to shake him. Granted I understood the reasoning behind his fear, but I wanted to slap him nonetheless. But Hope? This woman was incredible. The fight in her. Her heart. her devotion to the single most important thing in her life. All of it just made me feel for her and connect with her on such a level that I felt like her pain was my own.

This author has such a beautiful, fluid writing style that’s almost lyrical. It just served to intensify every emotion that these characters were feeling. I couldn’t get enough of it.

The romance was incredible. It was so swoony that it made my heart ache. It was a slow burn with plenty of emotion and just a touch of angst. I absolutely loved it.

He fucked me exactly like I knew he would when I’d seen him that first time in the bar.
Arrogantly.
Confidently.
Relentlessly.

If you’re looking for a beautifully written romance with plenty of feeling and an incredible story that’s sure to touch your heart and stay with you for a long while, you can’t go wrong with this book. If possible, I’m even more excited for Ollie’s book. I’m so hooked on this amazing series!

A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.

Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, and BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for A.L. Jackson’s upcoming novel, FOLLOW ME BACK, the second stand-alone novel in her brand-new FIGHT FOR ME SERIES.

If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.

Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

When you think about how easy it is to lose keys, phones, sunglasses and your dignity on social media, you might figure it’d be a cinch for me to ditch my V Card.

You’d be wrong.

At 25, I run a successful business, live in a fantastic apartment, and have fabulous friends to go out with any night of the week. And yet I’m still a card-carrying member of a club I don’t want to belong to anymore. Good thing I know just the man for the deflowering job—my brother’s business partner and best friend.

Graham Campbell is charming, smart, and, I’m told, oh-so-skilled in the sack. As long as I keep my eyes on the prize, there’s no way this pluck-the-flower project could possibly complicate matters.

***

Work and pleasure. As the CEO of a fast-growing company, I’ve been enjoying both to the fullest. What do I do when the board throws me for an unexpected loop so I can keep my business in my hands? I enlist the help of my best friend’s little sister since she holds a big stake in the company. But then I learn there’s another big stake she wants.

The one between my legs.

I can do this. Seven nights to teach her everything I know in the bedroom. There’s no way I’ll fall for her, even though she’s earning top grades in every single sinfully sexy lesson. And turns out I’m learning something too. The trouble is I don’t have the answer key to what to do when I fall hard for her.

As we settle in, the busboy brings the waters, and I cut to the chase. “So, I hate to crash the Sunday Funday vibe, but I invited you to brunch with an ulterior motive. I need a favor.”She spreads her napkin on her lap with a raised brow. “What kind of favor?”

“I need you at next Monday’s board meeting. As you know, we lost an important account last month when Beaux Rêves in Paris went with a cheaper option. Obviously, they aren’t our only account, not by a long shot. But given how volatile the industry has been lately, I need to make it crystal clear to the shareholders that selling isn’t the right path. With the number of mergers and acquisitions going on, they’re seeing dollar signs, but quick money isn’t the answer. That’s where you come in.”

“You want them to hear from me because of my shares?” she asks, her brow furrowing. “We don’t have anything close to a majority.”

Though CJ inherited Sean’s share of the business when he passed away, that’s not why I need her at the meeting. CJ has a way of putting people at ease, of winning their trust and confidence. She’s a successful business owner in her own right—her accessories company Love Cycle Creations is growing by leaps and bounds every year. Plus, she was courted early on by an accessories conglomerate and she declined—totally the right call, as her company is now a rising star in her field.

I nod. “Of course, but that’s not the only reason. I need to convince them that now is not the time to explore getting into bed with a huge multinational retailer. And to do that, it’ll help to hear from someone with an insider’s stock holdings and an outsider’s perspective. I want them to hear from you in particular since you went through something so similar with Love Cycle.”

“On a much smaller scale, though. My company is tiny compared to Adored.”

“Size doesn’t matter.” I pause to wiggle an eyebrow for effect. “Well, in this case.”

A faint blush spreads on her cheeks. “You and the innuendo.”

“I do love innuendo. I also love Adored. That’s why I want to keep it the way it is—growing, profitable, and independent. I don’t want it swallowed by some faceless corporate giant.” A smile teases her lips for a moment and then disappears. I can’t read her at all, so I’m on the edge of my seat, waiting for an answer. “Please, CJ,” I add when she stays silent for a long beat. “I need you.”

“You need me,” she echoes, her brow smoothing as she sighs. She takes a drink of water, sets down her glass, and runs the tip of her tongue across her lips.

I watch her tongue move, wondering why I’ve never noticed how amazing her mouth is. She has the bee-stung lips of a cover girl, in a shade of pink so deep it brings to mind flushed, hot, intimate things.

Things I should be thinking of in her presence.

In anyone’s presence.

Resist, Campbell, resist…

Finally, just as I’m gearing up to beg, she looks up, a mysterious smile curving her lips. “I know exactly what you need, Graham.”

Damn, that sounded…naughty.

I reach for my water glass, needing something to cool me down since innocent words from a woman I’ve known forever are sending my thoughts straight into the gutter.

“But before I agree to your request,” she adds, her fingers drumming lightly on the white tablecloth, “I need something from you, too. Something I’ve been thinking long and hard about. Very long. And very hard.” Her eyes meet mine, trouble flickering in her gaze.

Glass halfway to my lips, I freeze.

Christ. Who the hell is this sexy-as-sin woman, and what has she done with CJ?

✮✮✮Enter to win this amazing THE V CARD GIVEAWAY!✮✮✮

Everything you need for a HOT DATE!
An adorable Kate Spade hand bag to carry the essentials needed for date night ($179), a $75 Gift Card to the Restaurant of Your Choice, and a $50 Gift Card to your Favorite Lingerie Shop to heat things up after dinner!

A #1 New York Times Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s hot, sweet and sexy. She lives in California with her family and has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than 85 times, and she’s sold more than 2 million books. In December she’ll release THE V CARD, a sinfully sexy standalone romantic comedy co-written with Lili Valente. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter

USA Today bestselling author Lili Valente writes both naughty things and funny things (that are also naughty). She has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.

These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.

Like this:

Dirty Girl Romance is so excited to participate in Berkley Bookmas and we’re hosting Julie James today!

Berkley Bookmas is chock full of exclusive content from authors like exclusive excerpts, deleted scenes, author recipes and more!

Check out the calendar of events below:

Today, Julie James is sharing her favorite holiday recipe, and it sounds absolutely YUMMY!!

Need Cookies for the holidays? I’ve got your back.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite things about the holidays was my grandmother’s cookies. She used to spend days baking, and when we visited her house every Christmas Eve, there would be platters and tins of cookies seemingly everywhere.

Over the years, my cookie recipe book has expanded, but below are two classics that have been party of my family’s holiday traditions for years. Both are kid-friendly, adult-friendly, easy to make, and loaded with chocolate (generally a requirement for all my cookies, snickerdoodles excepted.) Enjoy!

Beat butter, granulated sugar, and vanilla until light and fluffy. Add flour and nuts. Shape dough around kisses and roll into balls. (Hint for first-timers: you don’t want too much dough; use just enough to cover the Hershey kiss.) Bake on cookies sheets lined with parchment paper at 375 degrees for about 8-10 minutes, or until the bottom of the cookies are a light golden brown. Let cookies cool, then roll them in confectioner’s sugar.

Variation: Mr. James is a little fussier than I am about cookies, and doesn’t like milk chocolate. (Miraculously, we’ve managed to stay married for 15 years despite this character flaw.) So for some of the cookies, I roll the dough around a bunch of semi-sweet chocolate chips (instead of a Hershey’s Kiss), and everyone’s happy. J

Three estranged sisters struggle to sustain their late father’s failing hockey franchise in Kate Meader’s sizzling Chicago Rebels series. In this second entry, middle sister Isobel is at a crossroads in her personal and professional lives. But both are about to get a significant boost with the addition of a domineering Russian powerhouse to the Rebels….

Isobel Chase knows hockey. She played NCAA, won Olympic silver, and made it thirty-seven minutes into the new National Women’s Hockey League before an injury sidelined her dreams. Those who can’t, coach, and a position as a skating consultant to her late father’s hockey franchise, the Chicago Rebels, seems like a perfect fit. Until she’s assigned her first job: the man who skated into her heart as a teen and relieved her of her pesky virginity. These days, left-winger Vadim Petrov is known as the Czar of Pleasure, a magnet for puck bunnies and the tabloids alike. But back then… let’s just say his inability to sink the puck left Isobel frustratingly scoreless.

Vadim has a first name that means “ruler,” and it doesn’t stop at his birth certificate. He dominates on the ice, the practice rink, and in the backseat of a limo. But a knee injury has produced a bad year, and bad years in the NHL don’t go unrewarded. His penance? To be traded to a troubled team where his personal coach is Isobel Chase, the woman who drove him wild years ago when they were hormonal teens. But apparently the feeling was not entirely mutual.

That Vadim might have failed to give Isobel the pleasure that was her right is intolerable, and he plans to make it up to her—one bone-melting orgasm at a time. After all, no player can perfect his game without a helluva lot of practice…

He inclined his head until it almost touched hers. “The opposite of nice does not have to be a bad thing. Not when it comes to certain areas. Sex, for example.”

“You can never stray long from that subject, can you?”

“Men think of it often, yes. I am just a slave to my gender. My offer is still open, you know.”

Oxygen was at a premium. He was far too close. “What offer?”

“To apologize. With my cock.”

Oh, she got it now. There was no apology on the table. This was purely Vadim Petrov trying to prove he was top dog, the man who could make a woman’s panties drop with a smile and a wink.

“You raging dingus! You’re not interested in ‘my disappointment’ or in making up for that first terrible time. All you care about is that there are women living in this universe who didn’t go off into the stratosphere when your dick made its debut inside their vaginas.”

“Only one woman, Isobel.”

She scoffed. “So sure.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t know back then. You just assumed tectonic plates shifted because, like all men, you imagine you’re the epicenter of the orgasm earthquake. As long as you feel the earth move, to hell with everyone else.”

Nothing but aristocratic hauteur from him now. “I am trying to be nice—”

“Nice? You just said you only recognize nice because you’re the opposite!”

He curled a hand around her neck, his touch shockingly sensual. “Then I shall be the opposite. I shall be very, very bad, Isobel.”

She wanted to say something about how “bad” wasn’t the opposite of “nice,” but this wasn’t an appropriate time for an English lesson. Her pulse stuttered, then gathered strength, a relentless pounding of yes, yes, yes. He must have heard it because, the next second, his lips crashed into hers, taking control as if it was his right.

But she knew better, didn’t she? She knew that Vadim Petrov was all smoke and mirrors, style without substance, a man whose only focus was his own pleasure.

Boy could he kiss, though.

This wasn’t your standard teenage fumbling. This was a man who knew exactly what do with his mouth. Probably all that practice over the years, she thought bitterly.

The bitterness melted in the face of a wildfire consuming her body. Pure, white-hot need. Maybe the owner of the lips didn’t matter. Maybe it was just a joining together of body parts that worked in this never-to-be-repeated moment.

He halted, his expression impossible to read in the shadows.

“It is bad, yes?” His breathing was labored.

“Terrible,” she murmured. “Again.”

She expected him to say something cutting, but he surprised her.

He did as he was told.

He didn’t taste like the boy she remembered. She thought she’d committed everything about that experience to her soul, both the bad and the good, yet Vadim’s mouth was different now. He was different.

This kiss . . .

. . . different.

Spicy and sweet, authoritative yet testing. It cracked open something. Not inhibition, because that had never been her problem, but reticence. With other men, she would hold back, waiting for the sparks to fly. If it didn’t ignite within a few seconds, she was already moving on, steeling herself for the disappointment that would come later.

Vadim’s kiss blew her wariness away. If it was this good, then the rest . . . No, that was not going to happen.

He was an employee, a coworker, a tabloid manwhore, sort of a dick, and the guy who took her virginity and did a piss-poor job about it. If none of these reasons were enough to put a halt to this nonsense, then she was in deep freakin’ doo-doo.

“Well?” he asked, though there was no missing the blink back to reality of his eyelids. He was just as affected as she.

“You want a score?” she panted. “Seven point four. The French judge marked you down. Too much tongue.”
This appeared to delight him, delight coming in the form of a lift at the corner of his decadent mouth.

“It seems we both have lessons to learn. Again.”

In a flash, he had pulled her across into his lap—okay, she may have helped because this couldn’t not continue. Strangely, the snark fired her up. That hadn’t been their thing before, but maybe his time in North America had improved his personality.

She liked this version of Vadim. She liked it very much.

She also liked his positioning of her core over his erection. His hands kneading her ample ass to bring her closer was another check in the “like” column. And, additionally, helping her improved opinion of him was his mouth back on hers, sucking, testing, exploring.

“Again,” he murmured.

“Again,” she sighed right back into his mouth.

Again.

Rubbing her center against him was divine.

His hands everywhere were divine.

That mouth . . . oh, God, that mouth was ten steps above divine.

And then that mouth was speaking Russian, rough, sexy, sweet nothings that drove her wild. Forced out all common sense. His mouth trailed her jaw, delivering little nips and hot licks to her neck.

“Bella”—something in Russian—“Bella”—more Russian—“Bella.” As if one language was inadequate to express how she affected him.

She heard the scrape of her track jacket zipper, felt tingles as he applied openmouthed kisses to newly exposed skin. Her nipples were on fire, sensitive and needy. Can’t stand this. Going to die. She ripped her bra strap off her shoulder and freed one aching breast.

“Suck me,” she begged, and then his mouth closed over her tit and suckled hard. His moan on tasting her sounded like he was in pain, but she didn’t care; all she cared about was this mindless grasp at pleasure.

The insistent pulse thrumming through her body beat louder, stronger, showing no sign of stopping and heading for the one place she’d never visited with this man. She rolled her hips and hiked her suggestive rubs into a dirty grind. He was huge against her, toting this hard, hot instrument of pleasure that stroked her just right.

Still not enough.

“Please,” she begged as she rode him harder. Faster. Dirtier.

“Da, da, da,” he said. Yes, yes, yes.

I would like to apologize. Properly.”
Her lungs went on hiatus. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. “Apology accepted,” she said cheerfully, though it came out chipmunk style. Alvin would be so proud.
“You choose to act clueless about what I mean?”
“Are you offering to apologize with your penis?”
“It is my most improved area.”

Is it any wonder I’ve been obsessed with all things Kate Meader ever since reading her first book? The woman is the queen of banter and she writes some of the most sizzling enemies to lovers romances I’ve ever read. I was immediately hooked on her brand new Chicago Rebels series, and it isn’t just because it’s based in my home town. Though it’s safe to say I may have been a tiny bit biased. But let’s be real, any author that can take three estranged sisters and make them the new owners of a sport that’s a boy’s only club and not only make them sassy and powerful, but totally endearing too is a total rockstar in my eyes!

So Over You brings the story of Isobel Chase. And while her sisters have had a connection to the game because of their famous and philandering hockey player father, no one was closer to hockey than her. She had her sights set on a professional career and a handsome Russian hockey player until both were ripped away from her in the worst way possible. While she may have licked her wounds over her lost hockey career, the man that made her first time the most ho hum affair and then disappeared from her life…not so much. Here a girl builds up losing her virginity to the most handsome boy she knows and it’s a wham bam, not even a thank you m’am affair. And now said man is back in her world as the newly traded player on her team and not only does she have to suffer his glares, but she has to coach him, too.

Can I just say how much I absolutely adored the banter and camaraderie between the Chase sisters in this latest installment. It feels like with each book, their bond just gets tighter and tighter, and I simply can’t get enough of it.

The man has only ever had eyes for you.”
“Yeah, the minute he laid those Cajun peepers on you,” Violet chimed in, “he was all, ‘Me Remy, you Remy’s baby mama. Take my seed. Take it all!’

But the center stage of the story was definitely the banter between Vadim and Isobel. There’s nothing sexier than a brooding and glaring Russian. Unless said Russian is also now determined to right the wrongs of the past and deliver on the missing orgasms. GAH! I loved this grumpy puss. So much. I don’t know how the author managed to take his grumpy and glaring ways and make him hilarious and endearing, but she totally did. Add in the secondary characters and the banter, and I had a goofy smile on my face the entire time!

Isobel!” Mia called out. “I’m bored, and Vadim doesn’t know how to entertain me.”
“Entertainment was not part of the deal. Neither was little dog with big shits.”
“Don’t call Gordie Howe that. He’s very sensitive.”

As always, the sexual tension was even hotter than the sexual chemistry. I was literary vibrating with glee to finally see the two of them give into the undeniable attraction and feelings that still run between them.

While I loved Isobel’s fierceness, admittedly her stubbornness at times wore on me. But Vadim was the perfect salve and together with her sisters, they gave her what she needed to get herself together.

I love a sexy second chance romance, and So Over You delivered on that end and then some! If you’re looking for a fun, quick paced, and sizzling sports romance, this book is not to be missed.

My woman is the North Star in my night sky, but also in her own. If she is not there to guide me, there is only darkness. For us both.”

Kate Meader was raised on romance. An Irish girl, she started with Catherine Cookson and Jilly Cooper novels, and spiced it up with some Mills & Boon. Now based in Chicago, she writes romances of her own, where sexy contemporary alpha heroes and strong heroines match each other quip for quip. When not immersed in tales of brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, Kate lives on the web at katemeader.com.

I think for sure it must’ve been a dream because there’s no way a guy could look like that, touch me like that and be so in tune with me on every known level, and disappear, leaving me with nothing but a good story to tell my friends.

When he walks into my bar three months later, everything I thought I knew and what we’d had disappears in the blink of an eye and the blinding light of the three-carat diamond on his fiancée’s hand.

It seems what I thought was a dream is now my most complicated reality, and I’ve got absolutely no idea how to fix it – or if I even want to.

I have tingles, and not the kind that feel great in all the right places. The ones I’m feeling right now are the hair-standing-up-on-the-back-of-your-neck, someone-walking-over-your-grave kind of feelings that you get when something bad is about to happen.

Unable to ignore them any longer, I turn around from my stock take sheet and come face to face with my worst nightmare.

A man stands beside her, his eyes as wide as mine and—if I’m not mistaken—he looks kind of pissed off. At me.

And just like that, this moment has just gone from bad to worse.

Hold on! I’m the one who should be annoyed, with him. It wasn’t me who did a disappearing act three months ago, and now he’s here, standing with her. Of all the fish in the sea, he had to go for the smelliest, rottenest one.

“Kenzie,” she says, all saccharine sweet, like she wouldn’t choke on the first dick that came close to her perfectly-made-up lips. “Long time no see.”

Forever wouldn’t have been long enough, Lana.

“We were in town running errands and thought we’d stop by. I wanted to let you know what I’ve been up to.” Without preamble, she holds out her hand as if she’s the Queen of Sheba and I’m a lowly minion at her bidding. But that’s the last thing I care about, given that I’m being blinded by a huge, shiny rock on her ring finger.

What in the ever-loving fuck?

I don’t get a chance to hide my surprise, or the fact that my eyes dart to Millen, his jaw twitching like crazy, his grey eyes that I remember turning molten with lust now blazing with some unreadable emotion.

Why is he angry at me when he must’ve known that I’d be here?

Lana turns her head and beams at him all doe-eyed and vomit-inducing, reaching out her arm to Millen before returning her attention to me, positioning herself to deliver the final death blow.

Millen’s eyes snap to Drew then back to me. “You know Drew?” he asks at the same time as Lana juts a hip to the side and asks Drew, “You know Kenzie?”

“Millen is my best friend from college,” Drew happily informs me, and his smile falls at the same time that all of the blood rushes from my face.

Awkward, meet Mortifying. Also here are Shame, Embarrassment, Anger, Disgust, and over in the corner there is Complete and Utter Confusion and her friend I’m Going to Have to Move to the States and Join a Women-Only Commune with Cats and Unlimited Batteries.

With nothing else to say—at least, nothing that wouldn’t take a bottle of Jack and a whole lot of time—I decide to just go with the flow and revert to my old trusty auto-pilot because seriously, what else is there for me to do?

“Soooo, would anyone like a drink?”

BJ Harvey is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Bliss Series. She regards herself as a smut peddler, suspense conjurer, and a funny romance thinker upper. An avid music fan, you will always find her singing some hit song badly and loving every minute of it. She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful girls, and hails from what she considers as the best country in the world—New Zealand.

The tour is bringing romance readers and listeners the opportunity to listen to all 48 full, unabridged chapters of Consequences well in advance of the audiobook’s Christmas release.

Plus, there are fabulous prizes at every stop–including a raffle for $50 Amazon Gift Card–and 48 chances throughout the tour to enter to win a COMPLETE set of M. Jane Colette’s paperbacks–so read through to the end so you don’t miss out!

Elizabeth did not plan to break up his marriage when she had an affair with her law school professor. But she did. Fifteen years later, she’s still coming to terms with the consequences of her youthful infatuation: a stepdaughter who hates her, an ex-wife who will never forgive the betrayal, a sister-in-law who’s determined to make Elizabeth her confidante.

Compelled to reveal the “tragedy of her life” to a nameless lover, Elizabeth finds herself forced to reconsider her definition of love, commitment, and responsibility—a process that finally releases her from the shackles of her past mistakes and shows her the way to her own happily-ever-after.

A NOTE ABOUT STRUCTURE: The story unfolds over the course of one night, as the narrator Elizabeth relates the “tragedy of her life” to her current lover as they, to quote a reviewer “do lover things.” The story Elizabeth tells spans 15 years. The scenes between Elizabeth and her lover are pure dialogue, and interrupt the “story proper.” There is no “he said/I said” in the dialogue between Elizabeth and her lover… a challenge the narrator solved masterfully, but which may give the first-time listener pause. To increase your enjoyment of the story, an opportunity to read, as well as listen to, the chapter, is provided.

If the audio link won’t work for you, click here: ❤ https://mjanecolette.files.wordpress.com/2017/11/41-christmas-day.mp3 ❤

PREFER TO READ? We’re on it. Here is a password-protected link to the written version of this chapter for tour participants’ eyes only:

❤ ❤ ❤

★★★ ❤ CHAPTER 41: CHRISTMAS DAY (password: erotictragedy41 ) ❤ ★★★

❤ ❤ ❤

NEXT STOP: Enjoyed what you heard/read? The tour continues on Tues Nov 14 with Chapter 42 // CAST-OFFS hosted byJOJO THE BOOKAHOLIC.

FIRST STOP: If this blog is your first stop on the tour, you might want to head back to stop number one, hosted by Tome Tender Blog: The Photograph, or to the Tour Home Page, and start from the beginning. There are chances to win prizes at every stop!

SPEAKING OF PRIZES: For a chance to win a copy of Consequences (of defensive adultery), M. Jane Colette’s other books, and an Amazon Gift card, enter here:

(The small print: Each tour stop offers you one opportunity to enter the GRAND PRIZE TREASURE HUNT DRAW, for a total of 48 entries if you complete the tour. The books that comprise the GRAND PRIZE are the novels Tell Me, Cherry Pie Cure, and Consequences, and the non-fiction collection of essays Rough Draft Confessions, including its controversially titled, available-only-in-Canada, beta reader / limited edition predecessor.)

M. Jane Colette writes tragedy for people who like to laugh, comedy for the melancholy, and erotica for women and men who like their fantasies real. She believes rules and hearts were made to be broken; ditto the constraints of genres.

I think for sure it must’ve been a dream because there’s no way a guy could look like that, touch me like that and be so in tune with me on every known level, and disappear, leaving me with nothing but a good story to tell my friends.

When he walks into my bar three months later, everything I thought I knew and what we’d had disappears in the blink of an eye and the blinding light of the three-carat diamond on his fiancée’s hand.

It seems what I thought was a dream is now my most complicated reality, and I’ve got absolutely no idea how to fix it – or if I even want to.

I have tingles, and not the kind that feel great in all the right places. The ones I’m feeling right now are the hair-standing-up-on-the-back-of-your-neck, someone-walking-over-your-grave kind of feelings that you get when something bad is about to happen.

Unable to ignore them any longer, I turn around from my stock take sheet and come face to face with my worst nightmare.

A man stands beside her, his eyes as wide as mine and—if I’m not mistaken—he looks kind of pissed off. At me.

And just like that, this moment has just gone from bad to worse.

Hold on! I’m the one who should be annoyed, with him. It wasn’t me who did a disappearing act three months ago, and now he’s here, standing with her. Of all the fish in the sea, he had to go for the smelliest, rottenest one.

“Kenzie,” she says, all saccharine sweet, like she wouldn’t choke on the first dick that came close to her perfectly-made-up lips. “Long time no see.”

Forever wouldn’t have been long enough, Lana.

“We were in town running errands and thought we’d stop by. I wanted to let you know what I’ve been up to.” Without preamble, she holds out her hand as if she’s the Queen of Sheba and I’m a lowly minion at her bidding. But that’s the last thing I care about, given that I’m being blinded by a huge, shiny rock on her ring finger.

What in the ever-loving fuck­?

I don’t get a chance to hide my surprise, or the fact that my eyes dart to Millen, his jaw twitching like crazy, his grey eyes that I remember turning molten with lust now blazing with some unreadable emotion.

Why is he angry at me when he must’ve known that I’d be here?

Lana turns her head and beams at him all doe-eyed and vomit-inducing, reaching out her arm to Millen before returning her attention to me, positioning herself to deliver the final death blow.

Millen’s eyes snap to Drew then back to me. “You know Drew?” he asks at the same time as Lana juts a hip to the side and asks Drew, “You know Kenzie?”

“Millen is my best friend from college,” Drew happily informs me, and his smile falls at the same time that all of the blood rushes from my face.

Awkward, meet Mortifying. Also here are Shame, Embarrassment, Anger, Disgust, and over in the corner there is Complete and Utter Confusion and her friend I’m Going to Have to Move to the States and Join a Women-Only Commune with Cats and Unlimited Batteries.

With nothing else to say—at least, nothing that wouldn’t take a bottle of Jack and a whole lot of time—I decide to just go with the flow and revert to my old trusty auto-pilot because seriously, what else is there for me to do?

“Soooo, would anyone like a drink?”

BJ Harvey is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Bliss Series. She regards herself as a smut peddler, suspense conjurer, and a funny romance thinker upper. An avid music fan, you will always find her singing some hit song badly and loving every minute of it. She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful girls, and hails from what she considers as the best country in the world—New Zealand.

Ten years ago, I was all set to compete in the winter Olympics. Then I lost everything—my career, my best friend, and my girlfriend.

After that, I stopped playing games for good. I swore never to go back to Colorado. Too many bad memories. Plus, she’s still there.

Now I live a simple life as a creative director at Shimura Advertising in New York. All is good, until my boss cons me and my coworkers into spending two weeks in Colorado at Proton Sports’ sleep-away camp for adults, pitching their business. Turns out Proton’s idea of a pitch is making the agencies battle each other in a bunch of ridiculous winter games.

Guess who owns the rival company? Her. And she’s out to get me. I might just let her win.

*Field-Tripped is Book 3 in the in the Ad Agency Series and can be read as a standalone.

Wildly out of control and laughing like a lunatic, she keeps going and going and going, past the finish line, all the way to the middle of the frozen lake and then stops with a tiny grunt.

I was told by a good friend to read Nicole Archer, so when I saw this book coming out, I knew I wanted the chance to read and review it. And boy, am I glad I did. Another notch on my list of authors climbing up the charts.

First off, I adored the humor in this book. Humor is my #1 favorite part of life and books. This book had me remembering The Office with each character having their own niche and role. Group dynamics is a huge part of this book. Two businesses take a trip to a ski resort with each team competing against each other to win an account. Eli is begrudgingly returning to his hometown for this business trip, where old memories lie. He is terrified of running into his ex. Of course, that is exactly what happens, and a story of second-chances begins.

Eli (aka “Loser”). Be still my heart. This man is wonderful. He has a Jim-vibe (The Office) but with a beard and maybe not as light-hearted, but definitely down-to-earth and loveable. He heart has been broken years ago, and he is trying to find himself (this all sounds morose, but I promise it’s not).

Charlie (aka “Chicken”). Be stiller my heart. She is what dreams are made of. This chick could take me in a verbal sparring and still have me for dinner. She is the definition of spunk, all hard on the outside, but a softy gooey mess inside. And only Eli knows the gooey part of her. When these two see each other again, it’s instant evil-eyes, but of course it’s instant attraction too, as they have LOTS of unfinished business, confused feelings and miscommunications.

I love that neither Eli or Charlie take themselves too seriously. What could have been a tear-jerker of angsty proportions (*gag) instead turns out to be one of my perfect reads. At the same time, Archer weaves those words that evoke just enough feels to make the book mean something. They are genuine, and their actions are unpredictable, much like real life. Eli and Charlie have such a rich history that only the few can dream of, growing up together and knowing all the dirty little secrets from those intimate young moments.

Of course, I cannot leave out the FIRE in this book. Despite the fact they despise each other in the beginning, that doesn’t stop them from fooling around rather quickly into story. And when they finally start hooking up, STEAM!!!

Nicole Archer’s writing style reminds me of Susan Elizabeth Phillips, who I practically worship. So be forewarned Nicole, you may be part of my new Religion of Favorite Authors soon (*wink).

Nicole Archer’s lengthy career as an advertising copywriter not only polished her writing skills—it provided a lifetime of book material. As a single, full-time working mom of a beautiful, brilliant, and horrifically energetic son, she has little time to do much else besides work, write, read, drink wine, and breathe. She’s originally from Colorado, but lives in Dallas now. This is her third book.

Rebecca Shea is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Unbreakable series (Unbreakable, Undone, and Unforgiven) and the Bound and Broken series (Broken by Lies and Bound by Lies). She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family. From the time Rebecca could read she has had a passion for books. Rebecca spends her days working and her nights writing, bringing stories to life. Born and raised in Minnesota, Rebecca moved to Arizona in 1999 to escape the bitter winters. When not working or writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her sons’ football games, or watching her daughter at ballet class. Rebecca is fueled by insane amounts of coffee, margaritas, Laffy Taffy (except the banana ones), and happily ever afters.